


Into the Viper's Nest

by silentexplorer18



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abused Reader, Bruises, F/M, Gang Member Reader, Intelligent Reader, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Protective Jughead Jones, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentexplorer18/pseuds/silentexplorer18
Summary: After finding herself in a life of trouble, a bright student steps into the viper’s nest, meeting some rather charming snakes.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Reader, Sweet Pea & Reader, Toni Topaz & Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Into the Viper's Nest

* * *

You’d lived on the South Side for as long as you could remember. Although you didn’t want to encourage the prejudice the North Siders had against everyone on the “wrong” side of the tracks, you had to admit that your life on the South Side had been far from ideal.

Your father had been involved with the Ghoulies, mother scribbled out of the picture, and you learned that gangs were harsh, cruel things, not anything you ever wished to be involved in. But that wasn’t really your choice to make. At thirteen, your father had traded you to the Ghoulies to settle his debt, retaining his freedom at the cost of your own.

You weren’t a member of the gang, merely a servant to their whims. They kept you locked away from the world, trapped in a basement and schooled in obedience. However, that obedience was fear based, not based on your ethics. You didn’t believe in the Ghoulies, and knew wholeheartedly that what they did to the South Side was wrong. That didn’t matter, though. At risk of being burned, beaten, and/or cut, you practiced a silent obedience toward their harsh, unforgiving orders.

Typically, they kept you removed from the world. Although you went out on occasion, you spent three years of servantry primarily in a Ghoulie basement until they decided keeping you hidden wasn’t enough. They needed you for more jobs than that.

Apparently such a job was being a Serpent spy.

Of course, you were too timid to be a real Serpent, but they insisted that you needed to get close to the action in any way possible, utilizing your silence to gather intel for the gang.

You started school again.

Stepping foot into Southside High for the first time, it felt like the eyes of everyone in the world crawled against your skin like slimy cockroaches. You felt lost, alone, dirty. The Ghoulies would harass you in public as to “not blow your cover.” However, you knew it was really just another excuse to litter your skin with bruises and mind with hateful remarks. The Serpents didn’t approach you. They noticed your arrival to the institution, if you could even call it that, and the way you tried to avoid everyone. You were quiet, skittish even, in their eyes, nothing to waste time on.

But you were bright.

No one was prepared for that, neither the Ghoulies nor the Serpents.

You weren’t boastful of it at all, sitting toward the back of the class away from everyone else, bashful whenever the teacher called on you for an answer, always correct.

It was only a matter of time before your teacher informed you that you needed to get involved more with the other students, introducing you to Sweet Pea and Toni. They barely regarded you, and you only gave them a small, shy smile in return. When your instructor said that you would need to tutor them, your eyes grew wide at the thought, Ghoulies snickering behind you, knowing you’d gotten an opportunity into the viper’s nest. Toni and Sweet Pea scoffed, turning to march out the door, before the teacher’s harsh voice rang out. “If you do not get tutored by (Y/n), we will hold the both of you back a grade. You will be repeating this class and several others next year.”

“That’s not fair!” Toni growled, Sweet Pea grumbling similar sentiments.

“I’m giving you a solution,” the teacher said, gesturing toward your trembling figure. “Take it,” she hissed before stepping out into the hallway.

Your eyes met theirs, round and saucer-like in terror. “Whyte Wyrm. After school. Don’t be late,” Toni spat, whirling around with her gangmate and slithering down the hall.

The Ghoulies left in the room surrounded you.

“Don’t screw this up, whore,” one spat.

“Yeah. You know the price,” growled another.

A few reached out, slapping your face and batting your head, reminding you that obedience was absolutely necessary.

* * *

After a few more hours of uneasy existence, you padded up to the bar, eyes tracing the door warily. Quite literally, you were about to step into the snake pit, and you were far from ready.

The door clicked as it closed behind you, the embroidered eyes of snakes on leather jackets greeting you. Without meaning to, you let out a shaky breath.

“Sit down over there,” someone shouted. Looking up, you saw Toni behind the bar pointing at a table in the corner. You nodded to yourself, settling softly into the shadows. Placing your mathematics textbook and copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ on the table, you studied the scene before you. The room was dark, but lively and warm compared to the dank areas the Ghoulies would lurk around town. Booze and brawn rippled through the area as people chatted, played pool, and threw darts.

Eventually, Toni and Sweet Pea ambled over to you, eyes dragging your moth eaten clothes and skittish eyes. “So you’re gonna keep us from failing?” Toni addressed you. You nodded shyly before she continued, “This is Sweet Pea. I’m Toni.” She paused for a moment, staring you down. “And you are?” she drawled out in an annoyed tone.

“(Y/n),” you murmured quietly.

She nodded, pulling a book and some paper out for her and her less than studious counterpart. The night was rather awkward, you timidly explaining things they didn’t understand as they plundered through algebraic expressions and basic trigonometric equations. The rest of the week followed in a similar fashion, you arriving at the bar and explaining enough for them to pass without insulting their dignity too much, each night being beaten by Ghoulies for not retrieving any useful information about the rival gang. Hiding bruises and diagramming problems had become your two strongest skills, though, so you didn’t have much of a problem keeping the Serpents from becoming too suspicious of your unsuccessful spying. Earnestly, you were really beginning to like the Serpents; their gang proved to be almost homey in a way the Ghoulies never had.

Yet the rhythm couldn’t just continue as normal; life would be too easy that way. Eventually, the Serpent King himself had to stride into the bar. Only, sillily enough, you hadn’t the faintest idea who he was.

Toni and Pea had been working on a study guide for the latest exam, and, to be honest, they were doing really well. To pass the time, you were now nose deep in _The Great Gatsby_ , eyes fluttering over Nick Carraway’s exhilarating adventure. Typically, you blocked out the idle chatter of the bar, but a clear, confident voice broke through your reverie. “Gatsby? Isn’t that a tad elementary?”

Your eyes drug up to meet his icy blue gaze, feeling your face pepper red in shame. “I didn’t get to read much where I used to live,” you said softly, glancing back down to the worn pages of the novel.

The boy arched a brow at you. “Where you used to live?” You nodded, eyes back to scanning the page again in an attempt to avoid his question.

“(Y/n), this is how you do this, right?” Toni asked, shoving the paper in front of your face.

Scanning the page, you nodded. “Make sure you carry your tens, though. It should be 62, not 52.” She let out a curse under her breath and continued working.

The dark haired boy smirked slightly before continuing his questions. “Where are you from?”

“Here and there,” you replied softly, avoiding his gaze.

Toni finished her paper, smacking it down on the table with a grin the size of the Cheshire Cat’s. “Done. Sweet Pea, you good?” He nodded, scratching down the numbers on his last problem. “Right in time for the meeting. Sorry, (Y/n), you’re gonna have to leave. Official Serpent business only.”

You nodded, gathering your things carefully. “Monday, then?”

Needless to say, as your nervous figure slipped from the bar that evening before the meeting even begun, the Ghoulies took the weekend to remind you who you belonged to, fists and hot metal meeting your sensitive flesh as a reminder of your worthless behavior rang through your hot ears.

* * *

Things moved on in a fairly regular pattern, you helping the Serpents with their studies, and occasionally you and Jughead (you’d finally learned the crowned boy’s name) would discuss novels. You were surprised by his intellect, and he yours. However, there was something about you that he just didn’t understand. You were so shy, skittish. It didn’t matter if it was Toni or him or some stranger in the bar, you seemed to be afraid of everyone, jumping at sudden words or actions, eyes widening slightly every time someone entered the bar.

Yet the cool of Riverdale’s fall soon permeated the air, adorning the world with frosty, slushy rain. You’d been able to walk back to your residence, a makeshift box beneath a bridge near Sweetwater River, after being confronted by the Ghoulies each night. But tonight was different. The wind was howling, rain piercing the ground like bullets, and you were dreading the thought of going out in the cold. Of course, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

So after pulling on your backpack and wrapping your arms around your already frigid frame, you stepped out into the war of weather, trembling as you tried to push toward the storm.

You weren’t that sneaky, though. Although Toni had been too distracted behind the bar to notice you pad off into the storm, Jughead had not failed to notice your foolish escape. Pulling his leather jacket on, he marched out into the cold, jumping on his motorcycle and racing down the block to find you.

“What are you doing?” he shouted at you above the wind. Your eyes were wide as you gazed at him, lips already beginning to pale. You didn’t know what to say. Oh, you know, just going back to my box under the bridge where I’ll probably freeze to death unless I get killed by a Ghoulie first. What about you? “Get on!” he shouted again, handing you a helmet. You stepped near his bike, placing it on your head, but not clipping it.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” you said back. If he hadn’t been listening closely, he wouldn’t have heard it over the deafening wind. But he did.

Reaching out, he clipped the buckle under your chin. “Get on.”

You never imagined to confront Jughead Jones’s home that night, but as his roaring motorcycle rumbled to a stop beside his trailer, you didn’t argue against his welcome inside from the cold.

Sopping wet and slightly frozen, he ushered you inside his house, pulling the door shut and locking it tightly.

Pulling off his beanie and shaking out his damp locks, he asked, “Where have you been staying?”

You looked down, not daring to make eye contact with him. “Don’t worry about it, Jughead. I’ll just wait for the rain to stop and then get out of your hair.”

“No,” he said a little more forcefully, “Where have you been staying?”

Your eyes met his, and embarrassment filled your chest. “Under Foxcole Bridge.” It was barely more than a mutter, but he heard it.

His first instinct was to be mad you hadn’t said anything to anyone, but standing there staring at your trembling figure, he knew there were more important things to rectify at the moment. Turning on his heel, he pulled an old shirt and some sweatpants out of his room as well as some socks, offering them to you. “Take a shower. You’ll be warmer.”

You stared at him warily for a moment, but the absolute numbness of your feet drug you from your position near his door into his bathroom.

* * *

Within twenty minutes, you had showered and dressed in his warm clothes, and Jughead had dried off his hair, changing into dry clothes and sitting down on the couch with his laptop.

When you emerged, curiosity drew you toward the boy whose hands flew across the worn keys. He didn’t look up to you at first, finishing the last few of his sentences before clicking his laptop shut and turning toward you. You’d sat next to him, eyes gliding over his every movement, but now it was his turn to survey you.

Devoid of makeup and clad in a tee shirt, he’d managed to expose the exterior you’d been hiding in the Whyte Wyrm. Bruises, cuts, and scars all littered your battered arms, revealing the truth behind your nervous behavior.

He moved cautiously, attempting not to scare you. “Who?” he queried, scarce more than a whisper, as he trailed a fingertip down your arm.

Realizing with shame your fatal mistake, you jumped, from the couch, turning away from him and wrapping your navy kissed arms around your figure. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

“No, no,” he said softly, rising from his seat. “I’m sorry. That was a little forward of me. Here, sit down. Let’s just talk.” You eyed him warily, but the invitation of a blanket soon lured you into a spot next to him, socked feet curled under your body. “What book are you reading now?” he queried softly, attempting to tread gentle ground to make you comfortable.

“ _Frankenstein_ ,” you said softly.

He nodded. “Are you liking it?”

You smiled to yourself a little, finally glancing up into his eyes. “The scientist is kind of a whiny bitch, but the actual writing is really good.” He chuckled, a smile cracking on his own lips. “How is your novel coming?” you queried softly, earning a confused glance from him. “Toni said something about you liking to write. I just figured…” you gestured toward the laptop beside him.

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re more astute than I gave you credit for. Actually, yeah it’s-” His words were broken off by a sharp banging on the door. You looked at one another warily as he got up to answer it.

He cracked the door open slightly, two dark eyed Ghoulies gazing back at him through the cold, one obviously drunk. “Where the hell is (Y/n)? We saw her leave the Wyrm with you,” one spat, the other glaring at Jughead menacingly.

“I dropped her near the bridge. Said she’s been staying out there for a few weeks now, camping or something,” Jug said gruffly, glaring right back. “What do you want with her?”

“She belongs to one of ours,” the drunk Ghoulie spat back.

Jughead scoffed. “Then maybe you should find her before she freezes to death.” With that, he slammed the door, turning the bolt to lock it, and silently ushering you into his room away from the windows.

“(Y/n), what’s going on?” he asked softly, sitting across from you on his bed. “Those were Ghoulies at the door.” Your eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but notice the way you uneasily glanced toward the living area again, terror flashing across your face. Your fingertips curled around your arms, wrapping yourself in a small layer of protection, though you knew that the Ghoulies entering the trailer would make said protection worthless. His eyes followed yours, glancing back to your worried figure. “Will they hurt you?” You avoided his gaze, but nodded, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes. “Would they try to break in to get to you?” You’d barely finished nodding before Jughead was up, yanking his phone from his pocket and dialing.

* * *

Within a half hour, the trailer was full of snakes. They milled around for a while, conversing and planning what to do. Toni sat on a chair in Jughead’s room, you snuggled into his sheets. She was telling you something or other about how the Serpents took care of their own, how the Ghoulies wouldn’t be able to get to you, but as your eyelids began to slowly droop, lulled by the comfort of a real bed, Toni slid from the chair, reuniting with the snakes in the hall.

They were taking shifts guarding the door, the rest forming sleeping bodies curled on chairs and the floor. When you awoke, startled from the roar of thunder through the thin walls of the trailer, it was an ungodly hour. Frightened from the dark and unnerved by your surroundings, you rose from Jughead’s bed, padding gently down the carpeted hall. You found a den of sleeping snakes, Jughead sat on the floor, raw eyes staring at the front door. His body was illuminated by the television, flickering white light across his glossy Serpent jacket and dark shocks of hair. The sound wasn’t on, and the snores of Serpents littered the room.

“Jughead, what are you doing up?” you whispered softly, kneeling beside his stiff frame.

“Keeping watch. No Ghoulies are getting in. You’ll be safe.” His eyes never left the door, and his diligence brought a small smile to your lips.

“You need to rest.”

He rolled his eyes, but it only accentuated just how dark the bags under those oceanic orbs were.

You didn’t know Jughead that well, and you could feel shyness bubbling up in your chest, but you were determined to make this right. He was sacrificing too much for you. “The Ghoulies are too dumb to try to break in at this hour, Jug,” his eyes flickered to you at the use of his nickname, “Besides, I can keep watch while you get some rest. You’ve done enough for me. Tomorrow morning, I’ll leave and everything will go back to normal.” Your voice caught at the end of the sentence, and though you tried to mask the fear that caused your voice to waver, Jughead could see right through it.

“No. You’re staying, (Y/n). You’ll be safe here. I’ll protect you, we all will.” His eyes had left the door, fixated on you as he gently reached for your arm. “I don’t know what normal is, but I have some guesses, and you’re not going back to any of that.”

His action of comfort was empowering, and you gave him a gentle smile of encouragement. “Then come protect me in the bedroom? I don’t like the loud noises,” you said, gesturing toward the window shyly.

With a sigh, he rose, triple checking the locks before stepping over dozing snakes on the way toward his room.

He tried to sit down on the chair Toni had occupied earlier, but you grabbed his arm, yanking him from his position and pulling the stiff jacket from his exhausted figure. He attempted to object, but after some prodding, you were able to get him into his own bed. You climbed in with him, the air chilly in the trailer despite the influx of bodies littering the floor.

You were facing one another, his eyes already drooping as you jumped, the thunder reverberating loudly around you. As tired as he was, he still managed to notice you jump, gently placing a comforting arm around you. “You’re safe,” he murmured. “The Ghoulies won’t try to break into the snake’s den.”

You hummed, letting yourself fall back into a peaceful slumber in rhythm with the Serpent Leader's slow breathing.

* * *

You woke to the pale gray of morning filtering through Jughead’s thick blinds. Your back was to his chest, his arm protectively around your battered frame. He was so warm, so safe compared to the life you’d always known, and you felt yourself slowly realize how happy Jughead Jones could make you feel.

He shifted awake, mumbling an apology and going to pull his arm away. You rolled over to face him. “It’s okay,” you whispered back. “It’s nice.”

He almost went to argue with you that it would be kinda creepy were it not him, a vaguely familiar boy holding you while you sleep, but then he realized that you probably hadn’t gotten that much affection in a while if the Ghoulies were the ones blossoming your skin with blue and violet bouquets. Laying there amongst the early hours of the morning and staring into your lovely eyes, he realized that was something he needed to address.

“Listen, (Y/n), I have to ask,” he began gently, “can you tell me what’s been going on? I want to help you, and I will,” he reassured, “but I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

You took a shaking breath, momentarily unsure if you should tell him you “belonged” to the Ghoulies, before divulging the words you’d never imagined you’d say to another living person, eyes glossing over at the quivering tales of your family, the Ghoulies, your eventual befriending of the Serpents. By the time you had finished, tears were slipping from your eyes, and you tried to quickly wipe them away, but Jughead still saw them. Reaching forward, he said softly, “Can I hug you?” You nodded, and within seconds were pulled against the soft tee shirt, arms enveloping your world worn figure. “You’re gonna be safe here. No more Ghoulies. Not ever.” He rubbed your back soothingly for a while before you pulled back and noticed his glossy eyes. You didn’t have to ask why; he could see the question in your eyes. “I’m just sorry I didn’t notice. That’s why you were so eager about going to the Wyrm, wasn’t it? To get away from the Ghoulies? And the books, that’s why you were so excited about the books.” He sighed. “I’m just so sorry I didn’t realize what was going on.”

You shook your head, the fervor pulling him from his guilty reverie. “No, Jug, don’t be. You weren’t meant to notice. It would have been worse if you had.”

He gave you a sad smile, pulling you back against his chest gently. “But I know now. I promise, I’m never letting anything bad happen to you again.”

And lucky for you, Jughead Jones found himself exceptionally skilled at keeping promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fic! I hope you enjoyed. You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://silentexplorer18.tumblr.com/). Have a great day!


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